


Rough with strong sound

by anxiousAnarchist, isozyme



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, Multi, spnstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-17
Updated: 2012-10-29
Packaged: 2017-11-16 13:08:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/539768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anxiousAnarchist/pseuds/anxiousAnarchist, https://archiveofourown.org/users/isozyme/pseuds/isozyme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>THEN: Dave shacked up with a Crossroads Demon, sold his soul, brought Rose along for the ride, and they killed a hipster water demon. </p><p>NOW: Roadtrip. The <i>worst</i> roadtrip.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Follows [for whom my tears have made me blind](http://archiveofourown.org/works/478104) chronologically, but should be readable if you haven't read that story. Warning: there is a NSFW illustration in this chapter.

So, status update: it's nine in the morning, for once, and for once you're not being chased or assaulted by anything. Dave lies in a sleepy heap on top of you, the whistle of his breath ringing in your ear, and Terezi's curled on one side. It's a wonder no one's fallen off the narrow motel bed. Terezi shifts and yawns, and with her eyes all slack and sleep heavy her teeth almost don't look lethal at all. If it wasn't for the ever-present reek of motel it'd almost be a beautiful moment. 

Out of the bathroom stumbles a tall man with terrible hair, clutching a tube of toothpaste in one hand and a toothbrush in the other. There's a week's worth of stubble on his face, not a bad face at all, but he hunches his shoulders and holds his arms out in front of him like they're foreign things. 

"TZ," says the man. "Help?" 

Terezi mumbles into your arm before surrendering to the inevitable. "I'll be back," she says to you, plants one biting kiss on your ear, before steering the man back into the bathroom with a cry of "Sollux! You once possessed all of the computers in Fort Knox! This is not hard!" 

[](http://imgur.com/heG6f)

Dave's drooling on your shoulder. His girlfriend - your girlfriend - is a demon. The Internet sleeps in the bathroom, except for when it snuggles with your girlfriend and calls her pet names. You're on your way to save your friend, who may or may not be totally lost by now.

"Do you think if I'm really sneaky I can just steal us bacon," mutters Dave. 

This is your life now.

*

It's still early in the day, here in the motel. The same motel you've always stayed at, the same motel you seem to always stay at, the Ur motel. You could map out the crevices and cracks on the ceiling in your sleep now; they're the same in every county.

The room's upended, slats of hot light streaking through the blinds, showing the crumpled bed sheets, the dirty clothes still strewn where they fell last night. One of Dave's cameras is in pieces on the floor, dissected and half clean. 

There's also computers. There's _a lot_ of computers. You're not sure how they got there. Laptops seem to gravitate around Sollux, to bunch up around him like children. He's tapping at one right now, his face gone slack with the ease of it. He looks like Dave does when he's holding a sword. 

He picks up the coffee mug you've left next to him and peers into it, sniffs, winces at the smells. Sollux winces at everything - at car alarms and radios and light and if anyone touches him besides Terezi he jumps three feet and snarls. Terezi says he's adjusting. 

"You drink it," you say. 

"What?"

"Just drink the fucking coffee, already, it'll probably be your thing." 

His face furrows but he does what you say anyway, and you're right, he takes to it immediately. You're not surprised - in the four days he's had that body the hair's grown wild and unkempt, patchy stubble dots his face and neck, somehow he's shaped it, the feel and look of it, without, you think, even trying. 

You gouge a sliver of plastic out of the scratched up card table you're all sitting around. You don't look at Sollux. Dave curls his fingers around your wrist, stills your hand, takes the blade and gently tucks it away in your pocket. "Terezi," he says. "If you say, 'you may be wondering why I've called you here today' I will cut the toes off of all your socks." 

You think to how you got here. How Dave sold his soul to a crossroads demon, justified it with "John's on a hunting trip. And no one's heard from him in two weeks." John, you brother in everything but parentage, possessed and gone forever unless maybe, just maybe - 

Then the demon trapped you both, you were with her and she with you irrevocably. You found another something-or-other ("The literal ghost in the machine," he'd said. "The original tech-y consciousness, you're fucking welcome for the internet, by the way") and you'd stuck him in a body and now they're both sitting across from you.

Terezi is all smiles and slick flashes of teeth as she lays out the plan, unfolding it for you like she's flipping cards onto the table. There's a map of the midwest under her fingers, and she circles your location. Another circle, a hundred miles away. And then, a little ways off, an angry red X. Ex? Somebody's ex is involved. Not yours, thank God. You don’t want to drag Jade into this. 

"She's my ex," says Terezi. 

"What?" 

"Were you not listening to the nice lady, honey bunches of oats?" says Dave. He slings his arm around the back of your chair. "We got a hot date with Tz’s former lady love." 

Terezi grimaces. Sollux's eyebrows almost shoot off his head, and you trace the route Terezi's marked on the map. "Why?" 

"We - and this pains me very much to say! - but we need her, if we wish to get your friend back to his normal self without him dying!" 

"Woah wait," says Dave. "What'd I sell my soul to you for then? Was that just for kicks and a ride or were you -" 

Terezi kisses him, lightning fast, pauses for a moment to touch his cheek. "This was always the plan." 

Sollux's eyebrows are still ratcheted skyward. "You're not talking about _he_ are you?" 

"Yes," says Terezi. She folds up the map in a few quick movements, and smoothes the creases. "Yes I am, Sollux, and I would kindly remind you that you totally depend on me for sustenance and guidance right now. So choose your words carefully!" 

Sollux laughs. It's a high, wheezy laugh that makes Dave grin and Terezi scowl, a huge laugh that leaves him breathless and empty. "Holy shit if you think I am going to deal with her you are so fucking wrong I can't even tell you. TZ I have squishy bits now I am -" 

"No - " 

"I am _double_ not doing this." 

Terezi's laugh is wheezy too, she collapses on Sollux's shoulder, huffs into his sleeve. You look at Dave and he shrugs.

[](http://imgur.com/oeoiy)

"I can't believe we have to see Vriska," says Sollux, between gasping breaths. "I can't believe you -" 

"No I can't either!" 

"I can't believe! Vriska, and now she's -" 

Terezi slides down the chair laughing, clutching her sides. "She's the fucking queen - " 

"Of the fucking underworld," says Sollux. 

"Wait, hold up. You're gonna need to back this hilaritrain up a little put that shitter in reverse till we hit make-sense station, the who of what?" says Dave. 

Terezi's laughing has subsided to muffled giggles. "Vriska and I were an item for a while! And now she's a little bit in charge down there." 

"What?" you say. Dave’s just staring. 

"To be fair," says Sollux. "She _is_ pretty hot." 

You put your head in your hands. Terezi's skittering laugh is half hysterical, and the room _reeks_ of smoke and computer dust and three day old coffee and your girlfriend's ex is in charge of every single devil and dark spirit you ever helped put down. Dave passes you the flask, and you take a long, long drink. 

[](http://imgur.com/jqm5S)

"Oh man, we are gonna die so hard," says Dave.

*

Pack up what you have. Check under the bed and between the sheets for anything you might have left behind. Watch your brother shave while you clean caked dirt out of your boots. Reach under his arm to grab a toothbrush, look at the both of you in the mirror, contemplate how much you hate mirrors - traps for bad spirits and dead souls, tricks for every two bit ghast and ghoul to exploit, receptacles for the unwanted, portals for the undead.

Dave's cut himself, on the corner of his jaw. He always nicks himself there. 

"Are you all right with this plan?" you ask. "We have to consider the possibility that it's a trap." 

He washes the blade, sets it down. Wipes his face with a washcloth, turns the water off. Looks at you through the mirror. "Gimme a little credit here," he says. "I know you think I'm an idiot most of the time, but I'm not straight up brainless. Not yet at least." 

Scowl. Rest your chin on his shoulder. "You know I don’t think that.” 

"I'd say it's going to be okay, but I don't want to lie," he says. "It's probably not."

"It's never okay." 

"Hey," he says, tugging the toothbrush out of your hand. "At least it'll be interesting." He smiles at the mirror. "Besides, you think there's any demon left in the whole midwest who doesn't cry and clutch their blanket and piss at the name Rose Lalonde?" 

"It's true," you say. "I am uniquely terrifying. I don't know how you manage, between me and Terezi."

"Somehow I muddle through," he says, and that's it. You've both made your decision. You've invited Terezi into little facets of your lives, you've eaten breakfast with her and shared stories and she's helped you put down monsters and last night you kissed her breathless in the dark and if she leads you into hell it'll be a sweet adventure. 

Sollux knocks on the bathroom door, and Dave props it open. Sollux is a mess and a half, and Dave rolls his eyes and you hear Terezi stifle another laugh. She's still half hysterical, and you'd be scared too but it _is_ sort of inherently ridiculous.

Get everyone in the Jeep. Double check to make sure you have everyone. One spindly computer spirit, check. One crossroads demon with your brother's soul in her back pocket and something vital of yours in her hand, check. One goofy-grinned sunglasses wearing motherfucker, hells of checked. 

You let Dave drive, even though he is a terror and a half and always plays Queen (it's not his fault, he protests, just the natural evolution of any cassettes left too long in the car). Terezi hops in the front seat and urges him to go faster, faster, because she is a terrible influence. 

This means Sollux is sitting next to you. He has a phone out, is typing on it bullet-fast, swearing when his still unfamiliar fingers slip and misspell something, or when the phone autocorrects. Sollux is a mystery wrapped in an enigma wrapped in three thousand chain emails. 

"What -"

"If you ask me what I'm doing I will rip out your spleen. It's not anything you would understand though I assure you it is genius and I am the only fucking person who could pull it off, you will thank me so much." 

The corner of your mouth twitches up of its own accord. "I see."

"Yeah, except, no, you totally don't. Do you know what it's like to travel through the middle of nowhere all the time? Do you know what the wifi signal is like here?" 

He gestures towards the window, the rolling roiling flat greybrown expanses of wheat and chaff and roadside weeds choked with plastic bags. 

"I'm guessing -"

"Well you're guessing wrong, is what I'm saying." 

Terezi twists in her seat, and lays a hand on Sollux's knee. He relaxes a little, slides down in his seat. "Captor! I can't bring you anywhere, can I? Rose is a very nice attractive lady - no Dave, do not make that face, she is nice when she wants to be - and I won't have you being unnecessarily rude to her because you are grumpy!" 

"Yeah, okay," says Sollux, placid. "Sorry Lalonde." 

"So," you say. "Nigerian scam emails - you? Or a random phenomenon?" 

"Me," he says. "That was a weird week and a half." 

“Penis enhancement?” 

"No. That was not me, give me a little credit here, that's not even funny it's just /boring./ Dicks, dicks, dicks I could come up with a better scam with my processors tied behind my back." 

"Understood," you say, and lean back into your seat. If this was another trip, maybe you could get some sleep, but instead you prop your head against the window and watch the tap tap tap of his fingers against the phone, Dave's hands drumming along as Fat Bottomed Girls plays, the jitter of Terezi's sharp knee. 

[](http://imgur.com/WKTws)

Look out the window. Look out the window again. Wonder if you're actually moving, or just perpetually rocking next to a picture of the countryside. See a sign indicating your only chance at food today is going to be a McDonalds, in 50 miles. It's going to be one of those days.

*

You roll up to the town past sunset. It's a college town (and you recognize it, you've been here before, so's Dave) and it's, apparently, a Friday night, if the roving bands of college kids are any indication. The house Sollux says Vriska's at is in the middle of where all the students seem to live, cheap houses and rundown apartment buildings with bad grass in the front lawns and empty red Solo cups everywhere. The whole street smells like Keystone, and from here you can see at least two bars, maybe more. A party bus shrieks past you in a streak of neons, and someone's hocking dollar pieces of pizza down the street.

"You can't park here!" says Terezi. "This is clearly a firezone." 

Dave honks his horn at a group of three pimply freshmen. "I don't really care, TZ. We're goin’ to see the queen of hell, not my gramma." 

"Yes, if we were going to see Gramma we'd need twice the shotguns, for starters," you say. "Just fucking put it in park, I don't care." 

Sollux looks queasy as the Jeep bangs back and forth and settles in between two other cars. One of the wheels is riding up on the curb. 

"Kansas is a concealed carry state, right?" asks Dave as he shifts the car into park. 

"Since when did you care?" you ask. "Not like that's stopped us before." 

He looks at you through the rearview mirror. "We got a kid with us now, Lalonde. I gotta be a good example for Junior, bring him up right."

"Wow fuck you, I am not a child, I'm probably older than you you fucking imbecile, no, I _know_ I'm older than you -" 

"Shut up," says Terezi. She's flipped down the visor in front of the passenger seat, and is examining herself in the mirror, patting her hair with frantic urgency. "Does my hair look all right?" 

You raise an eyebrow, and she snaps the mirror shut. "It's been a while, okay?" 

"Exes," says Dave. He's staring at you, still, through the mirror. "And whoops I can see your face goin Jade back there. Come on, focus kiddo." 

You hop out of the car. "I _am_ older than you, Dave." 

The house is - well, rundown doesn't quite do it. Neither does deserted. It's certainly not deserted, there's music pumping from it and a steady stream of kids going in and out of the door, hanging out the windows, you think there might be a few on the roof. The porch itself, even, is packed to the brim. But it doesn't look like anyone _should_ be able to live there. The front is all dark splintered wood and broken windows, a wrought iron headboard for a bed is lying in the grass, there's canvas and two by fours scattered next to the steps, a little wooden pony rocking in the little spare room there is on the porch. When you step onto the front steps, they creak and bend. 

You don't get odd looks at first - you, Sollux huddled up close behind you, Terezi and Dave trailing behind. Just another couple students, sure, art students or druggies maybe, but nothing out of the ordinary. But something about the wire set of your jaw, the way you can just _almost_ see your knife poking out of one of your pockets, the thump of your boots, Terezi's leering grin, makes the crowd part around you like holy water through a ghoul. 

Terezi's sniffing the air, standing in the middle of what seems to be the main room. Dave's managed to fetch a couple of beers, and hands one to you. "This is shit," you say. 

"I'm not going in there a hundred percent sober," he says. 

Sollux has his hands pressed over his ears. "Why is it so loud?" 

"This way," mouths Terezi, and you shove past a couple dozen more girls in glitter dresses, boys in khaki cutoffs. 

She leads you down the stairs to the basement. Of course she leads you down the stairs to the basement. It's hot and crowded, but gets a little less so as you descend. Less sorority girls, more girls flinching away from the sight of your silver necklace, more boys with black eyes. 

"She's in here," says Terezi. You're looking around, cataloging where the exits are. A door leading out into the alley, a small window (big enough, you think, to fit through.) The stairs upstairs, another window in the corner. 

"Do you think we should knock?" asks Sollux. 

"I think we should say our fucking prayers," says Dave. 

Turns out you don't have time to do either, because the door swings open in front of you, a burly man on either side. 

"Welllllllll welllllll, look who it is!" 

Your knife's in your hands faster than you can say "holy shit that's a fucking demon." Dave's is too, and he slides around Terezi to pin the left hand demon's hand to the wall with it. 

You prefer stompkicking yours to the ground and pouring holy water into his eyes, personally, but Dave's kinder than you. 

"Hello Vriska," says Terezi. "I've got a favor to ask!"

*

The way it got explained to you when you were a kid, and Gramma English took you on trips out into the woods to practice your aim, demon didn't have so much of an organized structure as they did a pecking order based on who managed to kill the last demon to claim to be in charge.

"Sometimes they call themselves the Prince of Darkness or something," she says, handing you another switchblade. It glints in your hand, and you only miss the target by a little bit this time. "Those are the silly ones that you don't need to worry about!" 

She ruffles your hair, and you giggle. You like Gramma English, she's funny and has a big white fluffy dog and tells you stories. 

"But you still need to be careful, Rosie! Anyone calling themselves the King or Queen of Hell or some bullshit like that is probably just an idiot with delusions of grandeur. And none of them are the real guy or lady in charge." 

She crouches next to you, and cups your cheek with her hand. "But you don't underestimate anyone just cause they have a silly name or might just be playing, okay? What did I teach you?"

"Always assume the worst," you say. 

Gramma grins. "That's right! That's my girl. Hey, you know how I got this scar?" she asks, pointing to a long white strip running down her forearm, through the tatttoo of a star she has. 

You shake your head. Usually, all the grownups get angry if you ask them where they got their scars. 

"Well," she leans in conspiratorially. "Now you do!" 

She pretend-punches you in the shoulder, and you pretend fall to the ground. Your gramma fought the scariest demon in the world and she's going to help you make cookies later and you're going to be just like her when you grow up.

*

A foot slams into your stomach, and you keel over, but don't stop pouring holy water. If this demon or ghost or vampire or whatever the hell the monster of the week is this time thinks that's gonna be enough to throw you off your game, he's got another think comin'.

"Okay, whatever guys," says the woman sitting in the huge armchair in the center of the room. 

The other people in the room all relax, don't quite back off, but they leave you be. Dave kicks his demon in the groin for good measure. 

Vriska Serket does not quite look how you expected her to. Demons come in all shapes and sizes, but for some reason you'd thought: Queen of Hell, black leather, polished nails, long dark perfect hair, red red lipstick. 

You got the hair part right, at least, in that it's long and dark but it's messy as hell, pulled up in a ponytail that's rapidly falling apart. She's got one leg crossed under her, she's wearing - are those denim short shorts? - a sports bra, a plaid shirt, very little else. 

[](http://imgur.com/V76wY)

She is absolutely fucking covered in glitter. 

"You brought a playdate! Or three, I guess? Wow, Terezi, you've been gettin busy without me." 

"I always said you were never enough!" says Terezi.

Vriska holds out a hand, and someone deposits a carton of Rocky Road into it. "Mmm, yeah okay. I'm not the one who's busting in here with two human losers and - is that Sollux?"

Sollux tries to hide behind you. It doesn't really work. 

"Heyyyyyyyyy Sol, nice body you got there." 

They talk, your girlfriend and her demon queen. You hear the edge of the words, the long barbwire roll of Terezi's banter, but mostly you're looking around. Surveying the situation. REO Speedwagon's playing somewhere in the far, far background, and there's thirteen - a gurgle from the floor, a cloud of black smoke - scratch that, twelve other demons in the room. You're pretty sure they're all demons, they look it. You hope none are innocent stray hipsters. 

Exits from the room: the door behind you. Current weapons situation: out of holy water, still in retention of all knives. Dave? Dave's fine, you think, though one of the demons is side-eyeing him in a way that makes your hair stand on end. Sollux is probably three seconds from pissing himself, but that's fine as long as he stays behind you and stays quiet. 

The conversation drifts back into focus. "And so, I'm just saying, I'll be glad to help you if you just give me one of the humans! I mean, Sollux too." Vriska discards the ice cream carton, stretches in her seat. "That was a given! But, like, the guy? He looks like a loser, I've seen you gut prettier boys to win truth or dare before, come on." 

Vriska's leaning forward, and two of her compatriots take a step closer to you and Dave, to Sollux. Terezi looks around the room, lightning fast, faster than you had, and she's smiling. She catches your eye and inclines her head and now you're smiling too.

"Oh shit," says Dave. "Oh shit oh shit, Sollux, get down." 

"What? What the fuck are you -" 

You wait until you hear Dave tackle Sollux to the ground. 

It takes eight minutes to clear the room. 

"Was that really necessary?" asks Vriska, frowning, after the viscera has settled. 

"I had to make sure you were paying attention, sweetness," says Terezi. She is brilliant and brilliantly red, your breath is heaving, and you spin around. Dave nods at you, he's okay, you're both okay, you're all okay. The shit you're wearing is ruined, but that's all right. 

"I guess we can get down to business, then," says Vriska, throwing one leg up over the arm of the chair. "What do you want?"

"There's a boy with a demon problem! I'd like you to fix it." 

"You came all the way here to get me to take care of one eensy weensy demon? Come on, you've got two hunters with you!" 

"And me," says Sollux, still half suffocated by Dave. 

"Yes, well. We want him to be alive at the end of it,” says Terezi. 

"How'd you think you were going to get me to give you a hand here? Kill off some of my bodyguards and smile a bunch? Come on Redglare, you gotta give me more than that!!" 

Terezi is light as air. Terezi is pulling up a crate and sitting down while you clean the blood out of your eyes, wipe your knives. Terezi snatches a packet of cigarettes from the back pocket of a fallen demon, lights one. "Hey Sollux," she says.

"Yeah TZ?"

"Remember those bones I asked you to find?"

Vriska's eyes widen and suddenly play time is over. "You couldn't."

Terezi takes a puff. "I could, though! You know I could." 

You have the feeling that someone hasn't told you something. You have the awful dreadful sinking feeling of being left out on some vital part of the plan. 

"You _wouldn't._ " 

Terezi stubs the cigarette out on the back of some former someone's hand. "Try me!" she says. She is very chipper. 

"Anyone care to share with the class?" asks Dave.

"Vriska is a very special little girl," says Terezi. "In ways I can't even get into! The point is, she has bones. I can find them! She knows I can. Sollux?"

"Yeah, yeah," he says. "She's right." 

"I could just take him," says Vriska. "Kill him right here, then how would you find them?" 

Terezi and Vriska and Sollux talk shop. You have this terrible feeling in the pit of your stomach. It's what you think other people call getting in over your head. Dave is standing again, very casually drawing a gun out of his pocket, and you're both standing still, and listening to the rise and fall of the voices of the demons, the thump thump thump of music and feet upstairs.

"Come on!" says Terezi. "It'll be fun. The Scourge Sisters, back in action."

A moment of crystalline silence. Then - 

"Well, what the fuck, let's do it," says Vriska. "Dang! I better get to kill something, though." 

"Sure, whatever," says Terezi. "And it's just this one thing, and then we give each other -"

"Ugh, yes I know!!! Three days head start, jeeeeeeeeez, it hasn't been that long." 

They shake. "I just want you to know that i'm only doing this because your retinue is especially hot this time around!" stage whispers Vriska.

You have an awful fucking headache. Sollux is shaking, and you have an awful fucking headache. "Are we done here?" you ask. 

Terezi looks around again, and nods. "Yes! And we're not even going to get followed when we leave!" 

"You are so boring," says Vriska. 

As you walk out, Vriska's wiping blood and glitter off her legs with one of the shirts of the dead demons. She is utterly without negative emotion. She sings along to the music playing upstairs.

"You sound like a dead cat," you say. "Honestly, I didn't know anyone could murder Adele so thoroughly." 

Sollux tugs on your arm. There's a cut on his forehead and another on his arm and he keeps staring at the blood like he doesn't know what to do with it. 

"See you tomorrow, hot pants!" shouts Vriska. "Ten AM sharp, if you're late I'll slit your throat and feed you to the dogs!" 

"Of fucking course she has dogs," Dave mutters as he half pushes you up the stairs. 

If anybody at the party notices that you are beaten and bloody, they pretend not to. As you push your way through the hot damp crowd you're certain you're leaving bloody handprints on shoulders and sides. Maybe they'll think it's paint. Maybe they'll think it's the mark of some malevolent spirit. The house looks haunted enough.

You've been an urban legend before. It's not that bad. 

Get into the passenger seat, watch how Sollux's face is drained of blood. Terezi's clutching his hand, and it seems wrong to watch, so you look up where the nearest motel shitty enough to not call the cops if they see two women covered in blood on your phone, read the directions to Dave. The roads aren't too bad, just buses and crowds of students, though Dave has to lean on the horn the whole way so he doesn't run anyone over.

Sollux is the first to break the silence. "How did you know what they were going to do?" he asks Dave.

"Brother, I've only seen Rose and Terezi smile at the same time once before, and they were the only ones to walk outta that bar alive."

"To be fair, it _was_ a vampire nest. Fairly hivelike in its scum and villainy," you say. 

That makes Sollux crack a tiny, tiny smile. 

"I would have way less nightmares if you two smiled less," says Dave. 

You and Terezi fistbump. Sollux might be some technological ghost, but you and Terezi are a fucking _machine_ when you want to be. 

Dave's the one to go and get the hotel room, while you and Terezi and Sollux lug bags full of guns and computers inside, and once there, you and Terezi gingerly peel off your bloodstained clothes. Sollux very pointedly turns away, but you don't care if he sees you or not. If he's around for much longer, he's going to see you naked at one point or another.

Terezi throws a towel at Sollux. "Look at you! We take you out one time, and you've already banged up that nice new body of yours." 

You take a moment to survey said body - tall, taller than the rest of you, gangly, a little stooped, but solid shoulders and a lovely neck and a face that, when contorted in a puzzled expression, reminds you of your mother's grumpiest kitten. 

He rubs at the blood on his forehead, pulls the towel away and looks at the red stain. "Yeah well if someone hadn't decided to fucking pile on top of me." 

"Tackle pile," says Dave, digging out the first aid kit.

"Pile drive," you say. "Good work, Strider, you saved the ball."

"Sports," says Terezi solemnly. 

Dave slaps a hydrogen peroxide soaked rag on Sollux's forehead. Sollux recoils. "Holy shit, what the everloving fuck is _that_?" he hisses.

"Don't be a big baby," says Dave. "Your cries will go unheard, sorry kiddo mommy and daddy went to the drive in theater and left you with a shitty babysitter." He smoothes a bandage over the cut. "I'm the babysitter. It's me. And it's past your fucking bedtime, son, no cartoons for you." 

"Did you manage to keep my computer unfucked or did you throw that onto the ground too?" 

"Nope!" says Terezi. "Sleep for you now, mister. You've got a big day tomorrow!" 

"But I just slept _yesterday_!" he says.

"Yes, that's the point," you say. "Terezi, could you help me with the hook - ah, thank you. That's the idea with sleep, you have to keep doing it." 

Sollux looks up at the ceiling. You roll your eyes and wrap a towel around yourself. Terezi is sniggering, your dirt-streaked partner-in-crime. You feel a sudden surge of affection for her, despite how terrible she is, how terrifying. You bundle up her ruined clothes and yours, toss them in the sort of black heavy-duty trashbag you and Dave keep for this sort of occasion - if there was more time, if this was not just for one night, you might try to save them, but there's more important things at stake here than a, quite frankly, disturbingly dingy tank top. 

"I'm going to take a shower," you say. 

"Same," says Terezi. "Sollux, go to sleep. Don't think I don't know that you only slept two hours last night, because I do!"

"Right," says Dave. "We will sit out here and think virtuous thoughts and I'll tell him some nice bedtime stories." 

"Tell him about that one time you almost got killed by a teddy bear," you say. 

"It was _sentient_ , okay? And it had an axe!" 

"Night, guys," you say.

Despite what Sollux and Dave might think, yours and Terezi's motivations are not licentious. Well, at least entirely. You are only human, even if she isn't. 

Terezi turns the water on, and sits on the toilet seat and holds her head in her hands. She's bleeding, maybe, it's hard to tell. "Business, not pleasure?" you ask.

She runs a hand through her hair and she's twitching, you don't want to call it shuddering or shaking or anything like that because this is Terezi but the plain fact of the matter is this: she looks as if she's about to hurl. 

"Well, that went better than expected," Terezi croaks. She stifles a shrill choking laugh. 

You fidget. You do not know where to put your hands. You settle for perching on the edge of the bathtub, for leaning against her, shoulder to shoulder and the steam's building up, someone's bound to slip and break something spindly. 

"So it was close, huh?" 

Terezi slumps. "This close. Honestly shocked we all still have all our eyes and ears and limbs but -" 

That is not a good but. You know your buts, that is a terrible fucking but.

"You have to tell me," you say, and she's looking away so you hold her head, twist it so she has to face you. For a moment you consider how strange and silly this scene might look to some far-off observer. Two girls bent into each other, naked or practically so, the water running unheeded in the background, the dirty streaks on the floor, the iron grip the one has on the other and how very quickly this has become a contest. Who will bend first? 

[](http://imgur.com/LQ9Ab)

"She doesn't let things go," says Terezi. 

"Nor do a lot of people we meet," you say. 

"No," says Terezi. "I know what you're thinking, and I know you're underestimating her because she looks like a complete fucking wreck - don't give me that look, I do, I know - but she has in her head a record of every fucking slight and your name is on that record now and I don't know if I can keep her away." 

"You should've told us," you say. You let go of her, rest your head in the crook of her collarbone so your words buzz against her bare skin. "You should've told us, and we could've figured it out." 

"I don't know, I don't know, I don't know," says Terezi. Fucking hell, if this is what you're like after running into Jade, no wonder Dave keeps a flask handy. 

"We'll figure it out," you say. "But from now on, you have to tell me the truth, all right?" You hold onto her wrists. "Do you hear me?" 

She sets her jaw, and nods. You breathe a long sigh of relief, and kiss her hand, her fingers, smooth your tongue over her knucklebones and drag the blood off. 

It takes a while to get clean.


	2. Chapter Two

Dave and Sollux are both passed out on the same twin bed, when you and Terezi retreat back into the bedroom. Sollux's head is flopped on Dave's stomach, his glasses twisted. Dave's shades are falling off, he's drooling. He always drools in his sleep. 

"Rose," says Terezi. "I sincerely hope you remember how to use Dave's camera, because I need to preserve this moment in my mind for the rest of forever." 

Sollux's hair looks like a flock of wet baby chickens. Dave's left foot twitches in his sleep and you and Terezi spend ten minutes searching for the most promising angles to view this disaster from. 

Dave almost wakes up, for a minute, while you and Terezi are bent over him, discussing the logistics of sharpie mustaches ( _Oh no, I have photographic evidence of a hundred percent genuine Strider 'stache._ ) "Rose?" he mumbles, and you fluff his hair. "Time to get up?"

"No, Davey," you say. "Go back to sleep." 

"This is fucking precious," whispers Terezi in your ear. 

You step on her toes.

*

The morning has that awful, sickly feeling of the last few hours before a test, or the day before moving. Sollux looks fucking /miserable./ You don't even bother trying to strap on half your knives without eating first, microwaving a bowl of oatmeal until it’s lava hot and thick as sludge. Sollux is sitting at the room’s only table. Terezi and Dave are having a very heated discussion concerning how many guns constitutes too many, and how fast he is allowed to dispatch "your train wreck terror of an ex." Dave always loses because Dave hasn't realized yet that it's much easier to kiss it better later than it is to try and win a debate with Terezi.

You dump the bowl of oatmeal and a spoon next to Sollux. "What are you looking up?" you ask, as he does something doubtlessly very impressive with an obscene number of search modifiers. 

"Your mom," says Sollux, because he is apparently four.

"Pretty sure my mother's dead," you say. Leaning over him to look at the screen is easy, trapping him between your arms is easy. "And that is certainly not where she's buried." 

Sollux's typing slows to a crawl. "I - uh, sorry? Uh, I shouldn't, damn it, I shouldn't talk, ignore me, sometimes my fucking idiotic shit sack of a mouth has a mind of its own."

You nudge the bowl of oatmeal closer to him. "Eat up, Mr. Captor. Man cannot live on shitty joke alone." 

"Not that he hasn't tried!" shouts Terezi.

You spend at least an hour arguing over the seating arrangements. Clearly, Vriska can't sit in the front. And you can't be in the backseat with her, too many knives and a hair-trigger temper (you protest, are quickly overruled.) 

In the end, you're slated to drive. Terezi's in the passenger seat (easy for her to reach back, easy to duck, you are never letting Dave play navigator after the Iowa Incident.) Dave will sit next to Vriska (a quicker draw than you, though you hate to admit it, and more careful about making the decision to do so.) Sollux will sit on Dave's other side, in what is the closest to safe anyone could be in this car. 

The good news is, _you_ get to pick the tunes. You toss the Queen out of the cassette player, and - 

"Seriously? Did you throw out everything else?" 

Vriska knocks on the door before Dave has a chance to answer. "Scoot over, loser!" she shouts. Not that it matters, because she hauls herself up over Dave's lap and settles in between Sollux and Dave before you even have time to register her presence. She's dressed like she was last night, but with boots, and a little less blood.

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/TQrAd.png)

You need to work on your reaction time, she could have killed you all. Terezi's hands clutch tight around the map she's holding as Vriska throws her arms around Dave and Sollux's shoulders, props her feet up in between the two of you. "Okay fuckwads, let's do this thing!"

*

It's easy to understand why Terezi would like Vriska. You don't mean looks really, though she's attractive in a slapdash sort of way. She's easy going in a way that Terezi isn't, slack and loose-limbed. They'd go well together. They'd fit.

Your hands tighten around the steering wheel until they turn white. Perhaps it would be best not to think about it, to imagine what they might have been like together. To wonder how long they fought together, slept together, raised cities in the spaces they shared. Jealousy is a clumsy weapon, in your hands. 

But somehow, the strangeness of it, the glitter queen of Hades sitting in the back seat, chewing gum with her mouth wide open, dissipates when she starts talking. The tense heavy silence (almost silence, Sollux still taps rapidly on his phone, Freddy Mercury still croons, some things are constants) doesn't even last until the city limits. 

Vriska bangs a fist on the back of Terezi's headrest. "Hey, Terezi! Remember that time we got a succubus to terrorize that frat house over here? What the fuck frat was that?"

Terezi starts at the noise, her shoulders tense. "No," she says. "It was a long time ago."

"Hah," says Dave. "Okay, that could not have ended well. How would you even get anyone not to notice a succubus energy draining or soul sucking or whatever, what? A hundred, hundred and fifty guys? 

"Freshmen," Terezi and Vriska say at the same time. Vriska grins and pops her gum. "You just go after the freshmen! Freshmen guys are little shits and drink themselves old anyway, no one's gonna notice if they get douchier and twenty-something! That's why quantity, you feel me? Waaay less noticeable." 

"Nice," says Dave. He scoots around in his seat so he can face her better. You should pay more attention to the road, you shouldn't watch him in the rearview mirror, but car crashes? Car crashes you can handle. When Dave fucks up he fucks up good, and there's only so much you can fix. "I've never run into a succubus before."

"They're fantastic," says Vriska. "Fun ladies! I'm surprised you haven't met one, you're a good target."

"Aw shucks," says Dave. "You really _do_ think I'm pretty." 

Vriska's almost constantly moving. She migrates from position to position as you drive the long yellow miles between here and there. Mile 25, she's knee to knee with Dave. Mile 60, she's got her head banging against Sollux's shoulder, pressing her sharp chin against him, trying to see what he's doing on his phone. Mile 80. It occurs to you that if you were to stop suddenly, Vriska might fly right through the windshield. Mile 105. Vriska's slid so she's almost lying down in her seat, looking up at Dave as he tells her about that one time with the trickster and the museum. You remind him that he forgot to mention the part where he thought a statue was attacking him. Vriska and Sollux snigger. Mile 150. Her back is against the back of the front seat, and when she laughs the sound ricochets against the windows. Mile 180. She leans forward into the space between you and Terezi, bracing herself against Dave's knee to fiddle with the radio. She smells like spearmint, she likes your favorite song. 

Mile 210.

"Okay should I even be hungry again, this is fucking ridiculous I ate a couple of hours ago. How the fuck do you people even live like this." 

You glance again in the mirror. Sollux is still typing, but bent double and surly faced. Vriska pinches his cheek. "Awwwwwwww that's right! You're still a little baby body. Sol's first corporeal experience. That's adorable!" 

"Hands off the merchandise," says Dave.

You can't say you blame her, you can't say you haven't thought about pinching his cheeks or squishing his face. You sink down in your seat, and when you trust yourself to glance in the mirror again, Sollux is blushing. 

"There's a McDonalds in two exits," says Dave. 

You and Terezi groan. Much too much of your life is played out in McDonalds parking lots. "It's not even time for shamrock shakes," says Terezi. This is the worst fate imaginable. 

The exit looks like any other exit along this stretch of highway. Gas station, Taco Bell, a shack posing as a garage. Porn shop up the hill a little, lights flashing greasily in the windows, hard to make out in the broad daylight, but you've read them all before. 

There's a few families, roadtrippers, college students on long endless joyrides, in the McDonalds, so you don't go in, but roll through the drive thru (you and Dave and Terezi had had this down to a science, now with two others in the car there's jostling and brief arguments over the merits of cheese vs. no cheese and you're pretty sure the person taking your order is going to spit in _somebody's_ drink) and park the Jeep as far away in the parking lot as you can from any other cars. This isn't exactly hard, all the parking lots at this exit have converged into one uberlot, and most people are giving the beat up Jeep with the fender falling off a wide berth.

Dave and Vriska hop onto the hood of the Jeep, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes and offers one to him. But he is not, at least, a complete and total idiot, and doesn't take anything from her, slides one of his own cigarettes from his pocket instead. Sollux is perched on the side staring at his food as if it has personally done him some grievous harm. 

The food is food. You've long since stopped expecting to enjoy it, you and Dave and Terezi grind through it with a resigned grim determination. Vriska amuses herself by trying to land fries in Sollux's drink. The sun drops another notch in the sky. 

Dave finishes his hamburger and crumples the wrapper up. He nods at you and jerks his head before grabbing some more of the trash, so you grab Terezi's arm and tell Vriska and Sollux that you're going to the bathroom. Sollux looks utterly betrayed. 

Dave's waiting for you on the other side of the building. "So," he says. "How are you two feeling?"

"How we are feeling is the least important thing you could concentrate on right now, Strider!" says Terezi. She shoves her hands into her pockets. 

"Yeah, okay, see, I sort of disagree," says Dave. He pushes his glasses onto his head, and rubs at his eyes. "Terezi, you've been fuckin two snaps short of crackin' all day, what the hell is it." 

"You're letting her get to you," says Terezi. "I don't think that you understand! I don't think that any of you understand just how dangerous she is! All of those horror stories she's telling you? Those are the _nice_ ones. Those are the friendly Vriska Serket equivalent of a Disney movie." 

"I don't know, tz, I was pretty badly traumatized by Lion King as a -"

Terezi slaps Dave. You have never actually seen her slap someone, have never actually seen someone fucking slap anyone in real life. He staggers back a step, his cheek is red and raw, and Terezi is poised like she's ready to strike - you, him again, anything that comes near. "This is not the time for jokes," she says.

She has _hit_ him, she hurt him, this is so outside the parameters of anything normal or good, and you know very little in your life can be described as normal or good, but this is too much.

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/SCZXt.png)

"Is it an ex thing?" he asks, hands up to guard off any future attacks, and you can't believe that's a thing you have to think about Dave and Terezi. 

You nod, your fingers flexing. You don't know what's wrong with Terezi, you've seen her angry and you've seen her _pissed_ but you've never seen her so out of whack she'd hit _Dave_. "I'm the same way around Jade."

"It is not an ex thing," says Terezi. "This is what she _does_. This is how she gets you. She's just some girl and she's funny and dumb and then you look away for a second or turn around and suddenly your innards are getting viciously fucked by the business end of a rifle."

Terezi is tearing at her hair so hard that you can almost hear it ripping out of her skull. You're still road-numb but now there's a tension running through you like a fatal electrical shock (and you'd know - been there, done that).

"I have seen very many people - people who thought they were clever and resourceful, people and demons and haunts and haints and vampires and the oldest of the damned who all thought they had her in hand. Who all thought they could control her, should things go south. And every single one of them is dead now."

Maybe this _is_ just an ex thing. Maybe Vriska's harder to have as an x in your life, a marked and completed path that you know full well you can never travel down again. Or maybe she's a little bit right. But you, Rose Lalonde, wanted in nine states and all the circles of Hell, cannot take the dirty one-eyed bird skinny girl who messed up all the lyrics of "Bohemian Rhapsody" that seriously.

"All right," you say. "We'll be more careful, if you think we should."

"Girl, you know Rose is perpetually three seconds from knifing some poor fuck and like who has _ever_ gotten the jump on me? I'm the motherfucking master of timing. Can flashstep so well I'm _already_ watchin’ her from all angles and you can't even tell."

Dave takes a step forward, and Terezi lets him hug her. She does not cry, thank God, you are much too much - this _day_ is much too much for the scare that would be.

You smooth out her hair. A group of three teenaged boys is looking at you all from their car, and you catch them in the eye, look sharply at them until the fear in their eyes catches.

"If you let Vriska kill you I will make your afterlife fucking miserable," she says, wrapping her arms around Dave. "You have yet to even begin to comprehend the nightmare I can make it!" 

"I know TZ," says Dave. "You are hell on wheels and sometimes I like you so much it makes me physically ill so there you're already actively punishing me for whatever my Vriska related injuries will be."

"Good," says Terezi. "I've got you right where I want you, Strider!" 

"Do you want me to drive?" he asks you. 

Terezi's hands clutch at Dave's shirt. "No," she says. "I want to drive."

*

Terezi driving is an experience unparalleled by any other in your relatively brief but storied life.

You are not a seat buckling sort of gal, and Dave and Sollux aren't either, but when Terezi gets behind the wheel it's a reflex to buckle up as fast as possible. Dave flicks Sollux's ear until he pays attention, and motions for him to do the same.

Against your better judgement, Terezi had wanted Vriska to sit in the passenger seat and you let her do it. You owe her, maybe, you think, or else you're just too tired.

But you can see why she wanted this now. As Terezi slams the car into drive and peels away, there's nothing soft for Vriska, idle reckless Vriska, to bounce off of and you can hear the wind leave her chest in one sudden burst. 

Terezi laughs and it's not a laugh you particularly like. 

Mile 300. 340. Terezi drives like she's got a message for the king and no one knows it but her. The sun's blinding, a right-in-your-faceness that makes you and Sollux blink and your eyes water. He hunches over his phone more. Dave's smirking when you look at him, the set of his eyebrows an unspoken "who's making fun of who for wearing sunglasses now?" He's fidgeting, he always fucking fidgets. You put your hand on his knee to steady it, though it does little good. 

Mile 350. Vriska has made a point of not putting her seatbelt on, no matter how fast Terezi drives, or how many gravel back roads she goes down (you wonder if this too is a sort of love). 

Mile 410. Even when you stop at a rest stop to use the bathroom, no one speaks beyond a word or two. When the others are otherwise occupied and gone Dave pulls you behind a tree and kisses you breathless. The hands at the small of your back and the way he leans into you is maybe a little desperate.

Mile 570. You don't realize you've been asleep for three hours until Sollux shakes you awake and tells you that you're stopping for food and gas. Your cheeks feel all warm and red and your hair sticks on end and you're cold but the dark and the wind of the truck stop wakes you up a little.

Sollux stands in front of a wall of glass refrigerator cabinets, turning his phone over and over again. "This is too much fucking bullshit," he says. 

"You mean you don't know what any of it is," you say.

"Fucking precisely. Anything I don't understand is clearly bullshit not worthy of attention. Where's that coffee shit?" 

You introduce him to canned espresso shots. This is possibly a huge mistake. 

600\. Dave tries to convince Terezi to let him drive, she rejects him, and even with the long drive Terezi and Vriska look more wide awake than ever.

620\. Vriska buckles her seatbelt. She fiddles with the radio, tunes into some scratchy small town shit. Terezi slows down, just a little.

670\. Dave's fast asleep, head in your lap, and while you stroke his hair you watch Sollux do Very Important Shit You Wouldn't Understand on his phone. This includes blogging, apparently. He has at least eight blogs at all times, he tells you, like a sensible person should. He has the most followers on what he calls his "dirty hipster blog."

750\. Half an hour ago, you found a station playing Coast to Coast AM, which is apparently the Captor equivalent of a lullaby because he is out like a fucking light. He doesn't as much snore, you find out, as sort of whistle while he sleeps. He shuffles in his sleep and rests his weight against you more. His hands curl up at your side and maybe if it was someone else you'd be angry at the intrusion but his face, when slack, is tired and sweet and he's too fresh bodied to know the etiquette of space.

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/7ClQX.png)

Terezi and Vriska are talking softly, in a language you don't understand or maybe one you're just too tired to parse.

You fall asleep by inches. 

Mile 800. The shake and rattle of the car wakes you up piece by piece and, half dreaming, you see "WINCHESTER CITY LIMITS." 

810, 815. The highway peters out. It occurs to you that you might have to search this palce street by street, basement by barn door by bar. 

You catch Terezi's eye in the mirror. Her face is washed out and grim. "You have more specifics," you say. It isn't a question. 

She nods, gestures to Sollux, who's still in a murmuring in-between state. "It shouldn't be too hard to find him."

And John always did stand out in a crowd. Tall and loud and expansive and dressed in bright blue, you'd have to duck to miss his hands if he made too emphatic a gesture.

You wonder what you have not wanted to wonder have not dared to allow yourself to think till now which is, will he look different now, now that he's been taken? 

"We have fucking _got_ to stop to get something to eat before we do the whatever," says Vriska. She hasn't spoken in hours, her face is outlined by the streetlights passing by, it's hours still, till dawn.

"Yeah, yeah," says Terezi.

She lurches the car forward, and Dave wakes with a start. "Wha? Someone mention food?"

817\. 819. 820 ½. There's a diner, open twenty-four hours and not a chain restaurant. There are few people you want to kiss as fervently as the people who thought up twenty-four hour diners. 

"Oh thank the sweet baby Jesus," says Dave as Terezi pulls to a stop. "it's a fucking goddamned miracle." He reaches past you to shake Sollux's knee. "Wake up dude. I am _not _waiting for you to get some grub I am this close to eating my shoe to quell the endless hunger."__

Sollux sits up and rubs his face and you didn't really realize how warm the kid is until he's gone. When he jumps out of the car he stumbles, dizzy and disoriented, and you grip his elbow to steer him straight.

Vriska dumps eight sugar packets into her water. Terezi commandeers an extra bottle of ketchup. When the waitress asks Sollux what he'd like, he looks so bleary-eyed and disoriented that she takes pity on him and tells him she'll bring some coffee and toast and bacon and you can sort out the rest later, okay hun? Dave proposes marriage to "Meryl? Can I call you Meryl? If you bring me some meatloaf and whatever the most ridic cheesy potatoes you have back there you will be my queen. I will up and write fuckin endless ballads proclaiming your magnificence, and if you bring like all the toast and raspberry jam that exists in this Valhalla of an eatery your name will be spoken of throughout the whole of human history. By this I swear, so say we all." 

The waitress has her hand in front of her mouth, she's obviously trying to keep her composure. When Sollux reflexively says "So say we all" she almost loses it. 

"I'll see what I can do," she says.

You lacquer raspberry jam on slice after slice of toast. Sollux perks up a little somewhere around the third cup of coffee and even Terezi's lightened up a little. The five of you fall back into conversation, discuss the merits of different DnD classes. To the shock of precisely no one, you prefer wizards and Vriska's a fan of big brawler types. It's easy to pretend that this will be easy, that John will be free and well by this time tomorrow. That this is a tv show, that via your stunning good looks the audience will root you on to the denouement (in twenty minutes, and no lasting damage.) 

Meryl brings another round of coffee and some extra bacon and Dave's saying the words of the Benediction to her ("May the Lord bless you and keep you, may He make his fucking face to shine upon you and be all kinds of gracious to you.") Terezi's cracking up, Vriska's rolling her eyes, you're reaching over Sollux to grab the pepper.

And that's when _he_ comes in.

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/xCZAW.png)

"Oh fuck," says the man with the borrowed face. "Not you assholes."

*

When you're twelve and you've been left at the house and Mr. Dad Egbert has gone with the other grownups on family business you and John watch movies for long sticky summer days.

You watch everything. Then you watch it all over again. You both critique Ghostbusters expansively, John admits that, despite the excellent performance by Bill Murray & Co., that is simply Not How You Go About ghost hunting. Their technique is deplorable. 

John never manages to not burn the popcorn. You never learn how to tell Bill Pullman from Bill Paxton. 

You both fucking _loathe_ Adaptation, no matter how hard you try to like it - it's got Nic Cage, it's Charlie Kaufman written and postmodern but about an hour in you're holding your head in your hands in abject despair and confusion and John turns down the volume and says to you, "Rose, promise me we will never be this meta." 

"I promise, John," you say, with all the gravely grave seriousness of a twelve year old, before digging under your bed for the secret stash of Harlequin romances, and John starts reading webcomics again. 

*

"Shit," says the demon. He takes a tripping step backwards, and you're trapped in this stupid fucking booth, your fists landed on top of the latest raspberry jam'd piece of toast and you're pushing Dave. The man backs out of the diner, and you see him glance over his shoulder as he runs away. He's not wearing John's glasses. The table rocks as you both struggle to get out, and Sollux is muttering "what the hell," Terezi's picked up one of the knives on the table, she knocks the salt over and it almost spills on Sollux's arm.

[ ](http://i.imgur.com/EVWlc.png)

"Go," you say to Dave. "Go, go go."

The waitress is staring at the five of you in open mouthed shock, but you just push Dave along. You can see the demon bolting through the parking lot, almost to a fence, and you run out of the diner, shoes squeaking on the bright white and black tiles. 

"Should I get the car?" asks Dave. 

"No time," says Terezi, and she's running next to you too, Vriska loping easily behind her. 

The demon hops a fence, and Vriska scrambles up it, jumping down the other side, you're lifting Terezi up, and then following her, and you almost face plant on the ground because you're rushing and you're rushing because there's no time, no time at all, but Vriska catches your elbow just in time.

"Gotcha," she says.


End file.
